


Royalty comes from what you do

by rayrayswimusic



Series: Event Fics [17]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Royalty AU, Shape-shifter, Spirit AU, YOI Litmag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayrayswimusic/pseuds/rayrayswimusic
Summary: Viktor, the soon-to-be Tsar of Russia. He was everything the people needed and wanted. With his coronation soon approaching, a long-time friend appeared once more in his chambers. Magic is something to be cherished is it not? And so is the right to rule - blessed by the spirits it is.





	Royalty comes from what you do

_ Clang! _

Over and over the swords moved, their wielders dodging wild swings and parrying the targeted ones. Sweat flew off the men’s foreheads as they danced around each other, stabbing at every opening they found. An unorthodox style of fighting for it emphasized the swordsman’s ability to move, not to fight. Yet for the two men, who were much more adept at dancing and moving around then most, this style was the most effective. 

With a final attack the older of the two managed to get his sword under his opponent’s chin, finally ending the duel that had begun as the sun had appeared but had now crept up to its rightful place at the top of the sky. 

Bringing the sword back to his side, the swordsman began chuckling at the disgruntled look on his opponent’s face. Sheathing it carefully, he extended a hand to the now pouting man. 

“Yura, your skills are incredible as a dual wielder. I’m not sure why you want to train that out of you when your skill itself is so hard to learn, let alone pick up as you did.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it out of its tight ponytail tail as he waited for Yuri’s response. 

“Just teach me okay! I’m not answering any of your stupid questions Vitya.” Yuri ground out his words as he placed his sword back in his scabbard. 

Sighing at his stubbornness, Viktor watched as Yuri’s hand seemed to be reaching for his second sword but retracted his hand as if burnt. Thinking carefully, Viktor tried to remember what had happened before Yuri had asked him to teach his style. If he remembered correctly, the only important event that he could conceive of, was the arrival of Lord Altin from his station in Ukraine. 

Considering that Lord Altin had been known to find sword masters extremely impressive, Viktor was no longer surprised. Yuri’s techniques could save him in battle but would never be acknowledged by the court as anything but a prince’s boyhood fancies. 

Still amused at what seemed to be a major crush on the younger‘s part, Viktor didn’t hear the maid calling for him till she had gotten quite close. 

“Your highnesses.” She curtsied and began, “Prince Viktor, the royal court would like you to attend today’s mid-morning meeting so that they may plan your coronation.” She turned to face Yuri and began speaking, once again curtsying in greeting. “Prince Yuri, Lord Altin has requested your presence for a ride through the forest this afternoon.” 

At their nods, she curtsied once more, this time much deeper, before leaving the two their thoughts. Viktor smiles to himself, glad to see that Yuri’s crush was returned - Lord Altin had originally decided to leave this afternoon back to Ukraine. Chuckling at his brother’s shocked, but not unhappy face, Viktor excused himself to head inside. 

“Good luck with him Yuri.” The scowl he received sent him into a fit of laughter before he righted himself and walked inside. Viktor really did not like the advisors his regent had chosen, finding them old and set in their ways. It was frustrating considering how much the world was progressing now. Luckily with him finally assuming the throne, having turned 21 last month, Viktor was planning on slowly changing his advisors. Nodding politely at the guards who stood outside the room, he walked inside to see a familiar sight - his uncle and regent Yakov and his 3 advisors arguing about something. They had all been friends since his before his father had been the heir apparent. 

With his fist at his heart, he bowed deeply at the men who had raised him. He might not have liked them, but they meant a lot to his uncle and father so he respected them. “Morning’s blessings Sire, you requested my presence?” Walking forward, he took his seat beside his uncle, nodding politely at the greetings he received from the royal advisors. 

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Regent Yakov took a moment to formulate his thoughts before he spoke. “Blessed morning Vitya, how was your duel with Yuri? Has he managed to beat you yet?” 

As Viktor replied, he saw the annoyed looks on the advisors’ faces and knew his uncle had asked simply to mess with them. Smiling a little, he completed his response before waiting for the seneschal to tell him the reason for their meeting, as he had always been apt to do in past meetings. 

And as expected he began, “Prince Viktor, with the coronation of your royal self to the throne, we have been planning the ceremony and require your input on certain aspects.” So it began, Viktor’s morning filled with discussions of clothing, and timing of the ceremony; who would be invited was critical as that would set the tone of his ruling, and even the order of the ceremony was important for it signified the strength of his rule. 

Finally excusing himself from the men, Viktor found that he had no more appointments that day. With the court closed for coronation preparations, Viktor only had to work on his paperwork - responding to proposals, business and the like; and dealing with matters of the estate. Returning to his rooms to begin culling the pile of documents on his desk, he was surprised to see someone had been in the outer room of his chambers. The books had been opened and left as if someone had perused them to see what he’d been reading. The plants had been freshly watered and moved closer to the sun. With a start, Viktor realized that he’d left his royal signet in the room that morning and rushed over to make sure it was still there. With it, someone could gain the right to rule in his stead. 

Relieved it was still on the tray in the room, Viktor glanced around, realizing that this wasn’t the work of the maids as the room itself still looked the same as it always had aside from the slight changes. With a silent huff, he walked into his inner rooms and paused when he saw that someone was asleep in his bed. Walking quietly towards it, he smiled, seeing familiar ears poking out from underneath the blanket, hands curled into fists on the pillow. Sitting down gently, Viktor reached over to run a hand through the dark hair, laughing softly when his hand was followed by the head for more caresses. 

Slowly one of the eyes slid open, revealing stunning eyes that almost seemed to glow with flecks of light, making it seem that constellations were painted into the very recesses of his eyes. The blanket slid down to his shoulder, revealing more and more of his face. If Viktor leaned a bit closer, he could see the clothes he wore followed the consistent black and white theme he’d always worn, yet it almost felt ethereal, for the shirt was lined with stars and constellations, telling a story Viktor had heard numerous times before. 

“Blessed morning, Yuuri. It has been a while, has it not?” He carded a hand through Yuuri’s hair, smiling to himself at the soft whine that the action elicited. The last time he had seen Yuuri, Viktor had been a child, barely allowed to complete his own responsibilities as the crown prince. Yuuri had come as a boy a few years younger then him, the ears and tail present then as it was now. That was the first time Viktor had sneaked out of the castle, skipping his lessons to learn to glide on the ice like his new friend told him about. He called it “skating” and said that one could dance on the ice with it. 

Viktor had fallen in love then, when he watched Yuuri spin on the ice, jumping high off the ground with his arms tightly glued to his body. The seriousness on Yuuri’s face had instilled a deep respect for the art, for that was the only thing skating could be called. An art. Just like the feelings that had bubbled in Viktor’s chest as he watched Yuuri spin with his torso and one leg perfectly perpendicular to the ice. 

Smiling at the sleepy man in his bed, Viktor slowly pulled him up, and out of it. “Yuuri, why are you here. You said that you would not come back again till there was a worthy royal on the throne.” Viktor had been hurt when he’d heard that as a boy, but with his uncle only being a regent, and Viktor too young at the time to assume his title, Yuuri had a point. But even now, there was no reason. Viktor would not be Tsar for another few weeks. 

He watched as Yuuri rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes, knowing it was all an act for Yuuri never let his guard down but still indulged him in the humanizing act. Finally it seemed he was done, when he stood up from the bed, straightening the bizarre robes he always seemed to wear. They hugged his torso beautifully before coming to mid thigh, where a pair of siken pants continued the path to his ankles. The robes hugged him tightly up to his neck before flaring out down his hands. They were a dark black colour, almost shimmering with the constellation theme continuing their pattern. A brilliant white sash wrapped tightly around his waist, complementing the whites of his ears and tail.

When Viktor had first met Yuuri he’d been convinced that he was simply dreaming, but even then it had felt like a weak excuse. He’d never seen a tiger in real life, the paintings in his books were never this accurate, yet Viktor could almost count each individual hair on the ears, and the tail’s movements and dexterity was something even he couldn’t imagine. 

Yuuri eventually seemed to finish his fidgeting and smiled the languid smile that Viktor now associated with him when he was pleased about something. He fully embodied the saying, “the cat who caught the canary” in that moment. But even before his eyes, Yuuri’s smile shifted to the one that Viktor was more accustomed to - shy and a little unsure about everything. He was a little startled then, when Yuuri’s hand rose up to rest on his face. Freezing, Viktor watched silently as Yuuri stroked his cheek before smiling softly.

“Viktor,  _ Prince Viktor Nikiforov. _ You are to be Tsar in 1 week.” Yuuri bowed, his arms straight at his side as continued speaking, “May the stars watch over your rule with all the beauty and longevity they hold. You are the one that this land needs, and my wishes are with you and your rule forevermore.” 

Viktor reached out to grasp Yuuri’s shoulders and straighten him up, a confused look on his face, which only seemed to amuse Yuuri even more. But before he could ask for clarification, Yuuri was already walking out of the room.

“Come Viktor, I assume pond has sufficiently frozen over.” He didn’t wait for Viktor’s reply before immediately walking out. Viktor rushed afterwards, taking a moment to grab the ice skates before following. 

But as they approached the ice, Viktor knew he needed to receive some answers. They both stepped onto the ice together, Viktor was as graceful as ever, but it didn’t even compare to the effortless beauty that poured from Yuuri. He skated literal circles around Viktor, gliding across the ice easily, before picking up speed into a jump. 

Viktor simply watched in awe as he skated around the pond a bit, years of practice now finally coming to fruition with his ease on the ice. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to relax, enjoying the impromptu break from his responsibilities. With a laugh, Viktor picked up speed and did a simple jump, only barely managing to remain upright. The grin on his face was bright and happy, no stress visible any longer. 

Behind him, he heard the sound of a voice being cleared and turned to see that Yuuri had stepped off the ice. In his hands was an object covered with a black and white cloth. Skating closer to Yuuri, he watched as Yuuri removed the cloth to reveal a breathtaking sword. It was thin and long, yet he could see that it was extremely sharp and made with high quality metal so it was undoubtedly very strong. But what took his breath was the intricate tiger that was carved into the blade. Baring its teeth, made it a truly ferocious look, but the stars that dotted the grip softened the look. Yuuri held the sword gently, looking at it with a fond look before gesturing for Viktor to take it.

“Viktor, this sword, is not one to be taken lightly. It has only been given to three previous leaders before you. To achieve it, you must be of pure heart, and your actions must have shown you as a truly compassionate one with the people’s best interests at heart. You have been all that and more since the day I met you - when you saved that poor girl from being executed for simply being hungry.” Yuuri’s hand didn’t let go of the sword even as Viktor reached for it, his face more serious then it had ever been before. “My respect for you has only grown since then, and I believe it’s time for you to have this.” 

Taking the sword, Viktor was astounded to see that it was a perfect fit for his hand, the correct weight for his hand with the length perfectly matching as well. Yuuri answered his unspoken question before he could even voice his confusion.

“It adjusted to your body when my intentions of giving it to you became clear.” Yuuri smiled, this time a bit sadder as he looked down at the sword before looking back up at Viktor. “Did you ever figure out who I was Viktor? I know you researched me after the first time I came.” 

“A byakko, correct? I only know a little, for very little information of the east has come to us.” Viktor smiled apologetically, hoping that Yuuri would tell him the truth. He was glad to see that he was correct when Yuuri nodded and smiled.

“You are correct in your assumption Viktor, I am the  _ Byakko _ , or  _ Bái Hǔ _ . Guardian of the West, and symbol of true peace and the right to rule.” Yuuri stepped back, a small smile on his face as he spoke, “I watched your family since your father was a boy, hoping to find one who would be worthy.”

Viktor was shocked to see a small tear roll down Yuuri’s face as his form began to become slowly incorporeal.

“Now that I found you, and given you my symbol, I can no longer remain. The sword will remain with you till the day you die, at which point it will return to me.” By now tears had begun streaming down Yuuri’s face, though he made no attempts to wipe them away. “Thus, I guess this is goodbye.  _ For now _ .” The last words a whisper to himself.

Viktor was horrified to find that he too had begun to tear up at the thought of never seeing Yuuri, but before he could reach forward and try and stop Yuuri from disappearing, a brilliant white light shone obscuring his vision. When he could finally look again, he blinked in shock to see that all that remained of Yuuri was the ice skates that he’d worn before lying innocently on the ground. 

“ _ Yuuri, _ ” he whispered sadly, his heartbroken at losing the spirit. But as he took hold of the sword tightly, and grabbed the ice skates, he realized something.

Yuuri had said  _ “for now _ .” He would see him one day. At that thought, he smiled, before heading back inside to put both items safely away in his room, and then once more, protect his heart again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! After 3 months, I'm officially allowed to post the story I wrote for the pilot issue of the YOI Litmag. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Also, if you have any questions about the byakko, or anything I mentioned in the story, let me know for sure! I still have my research on the topic :)


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